July 1, 2012: Claire is looking at my puffy left ring
finger, and how my wedding ring is practically buried in rolls of fat down
there. She suggests I just take it
off. I remind her of what she already
knows, that the ring is a token of commitment, and of unavailability. “Yeah, but you’re okay. The (study abroad) students will all leave you alone.” This is a good point, but I point out that I
need also to communicate the idea to non-students.
“Well I wouldn’t worry, Dad. The
thing is you’re just not that attractive.”
 |
| In an Anderson shelter, Imperial War Museum |
